


My Soul to Keep

by ThatwasHOT



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Epic Love, Happily Ever After, Horror, M/M, Rating: NC17, Schmoop, Sex, Top Sam Winchester, Wincest - Freeform, epic sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 20:03:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20935964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatwasHOT/pseuds/ThatwasHOT
Summary: NOTICE: This is the ending to the story –Under Your Bed, In Your Closet, In Your Head– Be sure you have read Chapter 23 of that story, and have made your choice, before reading the end.





	1. My Soul to Keep

**Author's Note:**

> Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you  
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you  
But in your dreams whatever they be  
Dream a little dream of me…  
\- [Doris Day](https://youtu.be/h7j8wa9sWOE)

Dean moved his hand away from the doorknob and instead put it down on Sam’s shoulder. 

“I don’t know how to let it go, Sam. But…I want to.”

Sam was a trembling fire as he pulled Dean in to him. With nudges of chin and teeth against skin, he made Dean open up to him and filled his senses once more. His mouth making the most convincing argument without a single word, as it moved against Dean’s own. This wasn’t just a kiss, it was a claim. _Mine._

Dean finally got with the program and really kissed him in return, both hands in Sam’s hair. He kept on kissing him until the world felt right again.

His brother leaned his forehead against Dean’s, his rushing exhales tingling Dean’s wet kissed lips. “Now stop being an idiot and choose us.” 

Dean nodded his head, bumping his nose against Sam’s. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Sam grabbed his hand and tugged him. Dean didn’t even turn around. He followed his brother out of the nightmarish room, leaving the howling wind and banging at the door behind them.

***

The world was quiet now. Nothing pursued them, nothing jumped out to bite. There was still the vast darkness, but now there was the beautiful sound of Sam running next to him.

They ran until their legs ached. They ran until they reached a cliff and could go no further. If they had been in the real world, there might have been an ocean. Here, there was a sea of stars as if they had all fallen out of the blank sky above. They twinkled in waves below. 

Sam stopped, catching his breath and looking behind them.

“I think this is far enough. Should give us a little time.” He turned to Dean. “Forgive me for this?”

“For what?”

“WAKE UP!” Sam yelled and smacked Dean right in the face.

***

Dean shot straight up with a gasp. Sam was getting to his feet, seeming much more awake than him already. They were back - both back!

Dean rubbed at his cheek, the memory of the smack still seemed so real. “Hey, a lot of crap hit me in there. How come I woke up when you just smacked me?”  
  
Sam answered as he rummaged through the pile of their things on the dresser.

“Because I was the only other thing in there besides the Sandman that was real. Now give me a minute before the Q&A.”

That made sense, Dean shrugged and nodded. He watched Sam throwing things around the room, still searching. The cuts were gone, no blood on his chest. That must have only been part of the nightmare.

Dean leaned to the side and pulled out something from under his butt. A shiny silver flask, the one from earlier.

“Is this what you are searching for?” he asked holding it up.

“Yes!” Sam grabbed it from him. He got the bowl off the floor where it too had been dropped, a puddle of red drying into the pink carpet. They sure weren’t getting their deposit back.

Sam screwed off the top of the bottle and discarded it to the floor. He tipped the flask over. A fat red droplet–another, then a third–fell. Only a few shiny red smudges in the bottom of the bowl.

“Not good, so not good.” He looked around for a moment. Went to his bag and pulled out a knife.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked worriedly, finally picking himself up off the floor of the honeymoon suite of the Sleep Eazy Motel. He stumbled a minute, feeling woozy and strange.

“Sam? Whatever that plan is with the knife, it is a bad one. Ixnay on the ifeknay.”

Sam frowned. He looked at Dean and sighed. “Right, just, let me think a minute.” 

Dean watched him pace, forward, once back, turned to go forward again, and then felt like he could actually see the little light bulb spring on in Sam’s head.

“I got an idea.” Sam put a hand on Dean’s chest and moved him back until his legs hit the foot of the bed and he tumbled backwards onto it. 

“What are you doing? Sam? Wait. What happened to I’ll explain everything?” Dean asked.

“One more thing to do to ensure your safety first,” he said. Sam climbed up the bed over Dean, straddling his lap and kissing him deep. 

He put a hand on the middle of his chest to stop him, “Sammy, what the heck are you doing?”

Sam didn’t halt at all, only slid down his body, eyes still on Dean’s, as he unzipped his jeans, tugging them down his long legs along with his boxers.

“Isn’t that obvious?” 

“Hello? Monster trying to kill us? Does that ring a bell? This isn’t the best time for uuh!–” He gasped, losing every thought he had as Sam’s tongue flicked over the slit of his cock, running in a line down the base and heavy over his balls. Sam wasn’t playing around!

Sam put a hand around Dean’s dick, which was all for the event now even though his mind hadn’t caught up yet. “Dean, do me a favor. Trust me to know what I am doing right now. And shut the hell up.” 

“What _are_ you doing right now?” 

“Fucking you.” He shook his head. “Saving you.” Then he rolled his eyes even at himself, as he sheepishly said, “Fucking saving you.”

Dean didn’t understand, but screw it. If the monster was still in pursuit and Dean had to die, coming all over Sam’s gorgeous face was exactly the way he wanted to go out anyway. 

Dean fell back amongst the heart shaped pillows on the bed, letting out a moan as Sam’s hand twisted up his stiffening cock. He kissed him below his bellybutton, as he stroked him.

Dean’s mind felt like it was swimming. By the time Sam pulled his hand away, it felt like he was drunk. 

“Noooo. Don’t stop,” Dean started to complain, but the sound of lube opening made him smile.

Sam blew out a deep breath, and set the lube back down on the nightstand. “No, no, we don’t have time now, this has to be quick, and that isn’t something I wanna rush…damn. Okay.”

Sam wiped his hand off on the comforter. “Okay, okay, change of plans, for now, you…blow me.” 

“What?” 

“It is part of the spell, okay? Just trust me.” 

“Wait. You getting a blowjob is part of the spell?” Dean shook his head, smiling, “That is the worst line I’ve ever heard.” 

Sam was going to protest, but Dean was already hauling Sam up to his feet then sinking to his knees, unzipping Sam’s jeans as he went. “Ya know, if this was all some elaborate prank to get me to give you another blowjob, you could have just asked.” 

Sam laughed at that but it turned into a moan as Dean leaned forward, too horny for teasing, and showed Sam how it was done. Teeth barely grazing purposefully around his shaft so it made Sam’s hips buck forward. Because Sammy liked it rough. They both moaned, Dean’s a little more muffled.

A breeze moved around the motel room, though no windows were open. It tickled at Dean’s hair, but he didn’t notice, enjoying his part in this spell far too much, focusing more on how Sam was growing bigger and harder inside his mouth.

“Faster,” Sam panted.

Dean raised an eyebrow for a second, but then he shrugged. He put a hand around the base of Sam’s thick cock and pumped him faster, following his hand down with his mouth for as much as he could fit. Whatever Sammy wanted. 

Sam was looking down at him, putting his hand on his soft head of hair. Not pressing, or guiding, just a hand on the back of his head, holding him dear. “God, Dean, I love you.”

The direct affection still felt new and it made Dean shy. Hell, it would probably always make him shy. Dean said he loved Sam back by giving him an orgasm that nearly brought him to his knees.

Sam came, pushing himself deep into Dean’s mouth with a cry, the warm rush filling him. 

He still had his hand on the back of Dean’s head, looking down at him, breathing hard.

“Swallow it,” Sam commanded.

With Sam’s cock still in his mouth, Dean swallowed around it. He loved bossy Sam and the way he tasted. Hearing Sam curse and moan over seeing him swallow made it all the hotter.

Dean was ready to fuck Sam through the mattress now. He got to his feet, about to tear off Sam’s clothes, but Sam was instead trying to zip up.

“Wait, man, we gotta talk first.” 

“Blue balls, Sam,” Dean said, voice a little sex-roughed. He put an arm around his middle, trying to tug him back down onto the bed. 

Sam grinned and resisted, “I think you’ll live.”

“So says the guy that just got his rocks off. Come on.”

“I have to finish the spell!”

“Right! You blow me now, spell completed.”

Sam’s dimples on display showed just how cute he thought Dean was. “I wish that is how it worked. You aren’t going to like this, but it is required.”

Sam picked up the knife from the dresser once more.

Dean’s reactions to Sam in danger were lighting fast now. He caught him by the wrist. No, Dean did not like that. He took the knife from Sam’s hand.

“Why are you – Wait, the stuff in the flask, in the bowl, was that your blood?”

Sam huffed, but didn’t try to get the knife back yet. He bent down to his duffel bag on the floor instead. “Yeah, it had my blood in it,” he confirmed, “and that isn’t even close to the most disgusting thing on the ingredients list.” 

“Yuh! Dude, that is nasty.” Dean said squinching up his face. “Where did you get this spell, Vampires-R-Us?” 

“Prefer the cum method?”

“Wait, what?” Dean asked totally confused now.

Sam didn’t reply, instead finding what he was searching for. He pulled out a thick wad of dried looking herbs in a bundle, all tied up with twine. He stood back up.

“Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em?” Dean said.

“Be serious for a minute here. I need the knife back. It is only going to be a little cut Dean, I promise. But we have got to do this right now.”

“Hold on a second man, strong hoodoo doesn’t come cheap. You never said what this is gonna cost you?” 

“Nothing I’m not willing to pay. Nothing I didn’t _already_ pay, okay? Don’t worry. I’m safe. And if you listen to me, you will be too, for now.”

Sam ran his fingers of one hand along Dean’s cheek and while he was distracted, pried the knife from his brother’s hand with the other.

“Dirty pool!”

“Hey, I learned from the best.” Sam moved back a few feet out of Dean’s reach.

A muffled scratching came from behind Dean like rats in the walls.

Dean didn’t see it, but Sam watched as Dean’s name was carved into the wall behind him with jagged scratches.

“Please?” Sam’s voice thickened with a hint of fear. He held the knife over the palm of his hand, but waited.

Dean had already made his choice. Sam wanted to save him, and damn it, Dean was going to let him this time.

He very reluctantly agreed. “Fine! And then you tell me every damn thing.”

Sam nodded, then winced as he made a cut into the fleshy part of his palm. The cut beaded up, momentarily shimmering like a line of rubies, before turning into a mean red weeping gash.

He held the bundle by the end and rubbed the strange mix of dried plants into the bloody wound, breaking off bits and pieces.

The metallic tang of blood was in the air, but over it now was the cloyingly sweet scent of flowers - and then something awful underneath, something dark. Sam was right, Dean didn’t even want to know. 

Sam ran the fingers of his left hand through the blood pooling in his palm and drew a flourish of symbols across Dean’s forehead, then across his own.

Sam had a look of relief as the room grew silent once more. “Remind me to kick your ass later for doubting me.” That bitchy tone was perfectly Sam.

“Hey, I still don’t know what the plan is, so you could still be wrong,” Dean snarked back.

Sam rolled his eyes and kissed Dean on the cheek, a sign of his ever-constant, gentle good humor despite the situation. Dean knew if it had been the other way around, he’d probably still be pretty pissed that Sam had refused to listen to him. 

Sam held his arms up and began. “Eripe animam, flere sanguine venire ad me, et ponam te in somnum.” Sam was always good at memorizing exorcisms and incantations. “Molles somnos, somno iam.” He could even say some of them backwards. Dean usually had them written on paper in his pocket. Sam continued and then began the chant over and again. 

A strange feeling went through Dean’s mind. Like something unwinding.

There was a creaking behind him. An icy quiver ascended the back of his neck.

A breath went across his cheek. But when he turned, there was only a messy bed and empty room behind him.

Sam continued on with the incantation. He didn’t falter but kept one eye on Dean. He walked around, saying the words louder, in every corner of the room. Suddenly a dark shadow crawled across the floor, vanishing when it reached the wall.

The strange feelings in Dean’s head started to dissipate altogether. 

“Non timebo mala.” Sam finished.

Whatever the hell that spell was, was now completed. Dean didn’t wait, he immediately took Sam to the sink, washing and removing the vile bits of weeds and muck from his hand. Then he disinfected it. Twice. They didn’t talk as he wrapped it up. Both were watching as the line of red disappeared behind thin layers of gauze. They both wiped the blood from their heads.

Once Sam was taken care of, Dean finally looked around him and noticed it. Everything felt real and solid like it hadn’t in days.

“Seriously? Just a little blood ‘n chant keeps the monsters out?” 

“Well…” Sam said picking at the bandage on his hand. Oh, there was so much more to this story. One look at Sam and his guilty posture told Dean that. 

“So, spill it now.” 

“This spell isn’t permanent. Just slows him down. I don’t have enough blood, to keep it away like this forever. And the more aware of him you are, the quicker he can come back. Which is why I couldn’t talk much before, which is why we shouldn’t even talk much now. Talking about it draws him in.”

“So, do I need to be packing right now?” Dean asked. 

“It’s weakened from that big show it put on. Pulling us into the actual dream world is no easy feat. With the spell, I’d say we have a day, maybe two? Besides, I don’t think running makes a difference. It isn’t like you can outrun sleep.”

“Okay. So when your little cum-blood-gross-magic spell wears off, are we back to square one? Getting mind fucked in a dreamscape?” 

“No, not…exactly.” Sam walked over to his side of the bed and opened the little drawer on the nightstand. He looked nervously at it and then at Dean. “Open mind, okay?” He held something out.

Dean wiped his hands off on his jeans. They still felt sand gritty or maybe that was his imagination. He took the item from him. A book. Of course it was a book, it was Sam, nerd extraordinaire and research king, after all. 

Dean turned the old tome over in his hands. It was red and leathery with faded gold symbols on the cover.  
  
“And what is this?”

“Hope.”

Dean opened it and looked inside. The book was in handwritten Latin. Dean could read some of it, all those times pouring over incantations throughout his life was coming in handy. There were lots of things here, spells from the look of it, but a particular page was marked with a scrap of paper that had Sam’s handwriting on it saying “the one.” 

“Una in perpetuum,” He read the top of the page.

“Together forever,” Sam replied.

“Amor vincit omnia”, that one he knew, “love conquers all”. In the center was a drawing that Dean could only refer to as a…fair maiden. 

Dean looked up at Sam. “Tell me you didn’t just hand me a book of old fairytales and call it our only hope, because that ain’t going to fly Princess Leia.” 

Sam made that face, that _please-don’t-doubt-me_ face. Dean tried not to panic. 

“Etiam in morte, superest amor,” Dean read aloud.

“In death, love survives…” Sam echoed back. 

“Sammy, really, what is this?"

“It’s an ancient spell. So old that when it was translated from Phoenician into Greek and then later Latin, it was already considered archaic.”

“Love spell? So…you want the Sandman to be your new boyfriend?” Dean was baffled. His armor for being on the short end of things was always humor. 

“Oh ha-ha, Dean. I killed his mortal form. And you are the only thing on this earth that I have…” 

“Yeah, I’m not following the connection here.” 

“I’m not sure where to start in explaining this. Okay, see, people, sometimes they...something happens to them and they don’t want to live any more. Maybe they-they- they try to hurt themselves.” Sam stuttered nervously. “Maybe even, you know… kill themselves.” He looked at Dean. They both knew how low he had gotten in the past. “Even if they don’t go through with it, they leave this hole in themselves. They welcomed Death, but sometimes…” Sam’s voice grew quiet. “Sometimes, it is his brother that answers.”

“So because of crap I pulled in the past, you are saying this Sandman saga is my own damn fault? He is coming for me because I made a hole in my soul?” Dean felt a pang of guilt.

“No, Dean. That isn’t what I am saying, I’m just trying to explain it.” Sam sat back down in the seat across from Dean, his hand coming to rest on Dean’s knee. “You didn’t give up, you kept on going, you always do, that is the important part. We aren’t going to give up now either. But it is sort of like possession, you’ve got this hole in yourself right now that the sandman can get in through. All the Sandman has to do to come into the mortal realm is get a person to off themselves, or otherwise abandon who they are, so their souls are damned, then beat Death to the punch and claim them. He rides their bodies then, kind of like a demon, but worse. Sometimes he keeps them for hundreds of years, until they are warped on the outside like they are inside. Horrible nightmare things. I killed his last mortal form. That thing back in that cave, it was once a human. I am sure he’d like me very dead, but I didn’t have a way for him to get in. So in revenge he chose you.”

“Man, I am tired of things wanting in my skin.” 

“Right. So think of this book like…a loophole. The lore claims the spell inside it came from the love goddess, Aphrodite herself. It was used to help save one of the first true pairs of soulmates on earth, Anscom and Eliud. See, the lovers were so dedicated to one each other, they forsook all others, including the gods. They worshiped only their love. This of course pissed off most of the old gods, and since most of them were dicks, they separated the pair. It was a really sad story actually. They plotted against them, whammied them with this spell so that the more they looked for one another, the further apart they went. Tricking them so they ended up on opposite ends of all existence, never to be reunited together again. The legend goes that Eliud wept so hard his tears formed the Neda River.”

Dean was not getting any more convinced as Sam talked. “That was a lovely bedtime story.” 

Sam shook his head and huffed. He was trying to sum it all up as quickly as he could. Dean was such a hard audience to please. 

“A lot of it is obviously embellished, I’ll give you that. The only part that really matters is that the goddess Aphrodite, seeing the lovers plight took pity on them and told them with an ultimate act of love, they could be saved. If it worked, they would be bound to each other for all eternity. Nothing could part them again. Not gods, not monsters, not even death. If you believe in heaven or hell they were reunited there, or, some claim they were born into the next life where their souls did not have to search for each other for all their days again, but were born in the same place, the same time period, sometimes…to the same mother.”

Dean tried to let that information wash over him. “So…” He paused. “You think this will work because…” 

Sam met Dean’s eyes, his face determined. “Soulmates.”

“_Soulmates_.” Dean let that sink in for a minute. He rubbed a hand down his face.

“No matter what parts of the legend are true, this knife, and the spell inside this book are the real deal. The sandman didn’t just choose you out of revenge. He got into your head, was going to kill you. But he found true love there, your love for me. As corny as it sounds, if it is real, it is the most powerful magic there is. If he claims you, he could use it. So, he chose you. He is linked up to you since everything happened when we took him on. You are the Sandman’s only way into this world now. If he can’t claim you, he has to wait until your death until he can choose someone else. So let’s just say he really wants you. Either inside you, or he wants to kill you. So, the plan comes down to this… this beast wants your soul, but it can’t have it if it already belongs to me. That closes the door to him, you understand? If we are soulmates, enacting this spell could save you.”

“But… Soulmates, really? Isn’t that a little too, I don’t know – _Disney –_ for us, Sam?” 

“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you before. I knew you would make fun of it.”

“I’m not making fun it’s just…”

Sam snatched the book out of Dean’s hands and tossed it into his bag. “I don’t have another plan yet.” 

“I don’t know, man, okay? I’m selling you my soul? Are we sealing this deal with a kiss?” 

“It is the goddess of love,” Sam said. “It is sealed with a hell of a lot more than a kiss.” That got Dean’s attention.

How could he argue with that? He ruffled Sam’s hair and said, “Ah, baby, well where do I sign? And what freaky positions does the love goddess require us to be in? Okay, there is this one called reverse soaring eagle…” 

“Stop.” Sam crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You can’t joke.”

“I would never joke about the reverse soaring eagle.”

“You have to be serious. Because you can’t ‘sort of’ mean it, Dean. This is eternal and binding. You have to mean it all the way.” 

“Or?” 

“We’ll die.” 

“Jesus,” Dean said balking at Sam. “Talk about performance anxiety.” 

Sam frowned at him, but then smirked a little, then flat out laughed. Kept on laughing, tossing his head back.

Watching Sam laugh was contagious and Dean soon joined him. Sure, this was fucked up, but oddly enough this wasn’t the most fucked up thing they had been through, not in the long run. And after all the nightmares and darkness, they needed a laugh, they were desperate for one. 

Dean leaned closer into Sam letting their shoulders touch. He cleared his throat, “All right, in all seriousness, tell me what it actually requires.” 

Sam looked at him a little sheepishly. “So get this, the lore says the Goddess Aphrodite told Anscom that he could uncurse his lover’s soul, if he was willing to give his life for it. He had to prove he loved him more than his own self. The spell required he put a knife through his own heart in demonstration of his love, that he’d rather die than live without Eliud. And Eliud did the same. Thus as they lay dying, the original spell keeping them apart was broken because death nullifies everything. Aphrodite was convinced of their love, so she brought them back together. They pulled the knives out and put them through each other’s hearts so that they were symbolically and I guess with the blood, physically, inside one another’s heart. Kind of like a more extreme cupid’s arrow. If they were not soulmates, if they doubted or were untrue, the spell wouldn’t have worked. They’d die of, well, a broken heart I guess you could say. But if their love was true, they would be linked, they would own each other’s souls for all time. It is the only known way for humans to own souls.”

Dean frowned at this news. “Because nothing says I love you quite like a knife in the chest?”

This all felt way above his pay grade. He thought it all through, trying to keep up with everything Sam had told him so far. 

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “So let me get this all straight. I am supposed to stab myself, and then you, and hope we don’t die by the mercy of an ancient love goddess spell? So that the Sandman can’t wear my skin to the prom. And you are basing all of this off a random book you happened to find from Bobby’s library? …Oh yeah. This seems legit.” 

“Not exactly.” 

“What?”

“Well, Dad uh…he is the one that left the book.” He rubbed nervously at his bandaged hand.

That news was hard to process. The last time they had seen each other, Dean had nearly taken his head off. And now here is John Winchester to the rescue? He wasn’t sure how to feel.

“Wait, wait a minute here. Dad called you? Came by? When was this? Back at Bobby’s house? And you didn’t tell me!” 

“You weren’t exactly talking to me at the time, you were out pouting in the Impala. All he did was leave the book on the porch. I didn’t even see him. I got a call letting me know.” 

“If this is real then why didn’t dad tell us when he was at Bobby’s in the first place?” 

“Soulmates, Dean. That isn’t exactly easy news for Dad to accept. I’m betting he knew that since he talked to that psychic, Missouri Moseley, back when I was a kid. In all this time, he still hasn’t got his head around it. He was probably thinking he would prefer we went down swinging than, well...” Sam paused. “But he had a change of heart I guess. I don’t think it is acceptance, but it is something. And a last second reprieve for us.”

“How do you, I mean, do you trust Dad on this one? Something feels…off here.”

“Dean, its Dad. Yeah he is, well, him_._ But he isn’t going to let some monster off us.” Sam trailed off. “He said for us to stay safe.”

The apology from their father was silent like they always are, but Dean heard it in those words just the same. It hurt too much to think about right then, so Dean tried to stay focused on the problem at hand. 

“How do we know this isn’t the sandman pulling another fast one? I mean Sammy, in my head, one of the dreams was about you, with your heart missing.” 

“Yeah well, I told you to drink the damn stuff to start with, didn’t I? We could have avoided that whole detour to nightmareland if you had only listened to me in the first place.” Sam crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Well you shouldn’t have been keeping things from me then.”

Sam didn’t take the bait. “It probably saw the idea in my head when it took me and is trying to use some reverse psychology on you now. I mean dreams are deep stuff. You should be happy we aren’t more screwed up then we are, going head to head with it like that. If it was at full power we’d probably both be drooling messes of psychological torture.” 

Dean did feel like an ass for not listening to Sam earlier. He had risked them both but still...

“A lack of evidence isn’t evidence. I can’t stick a knife through you based on a wild hunch. There are too many facts missing here.”

Sam stood up from the bed and began to pace around the room with a nervous energy and Dean sat up and watched him. He knew that look. A lot of talking always followed that particular gait. That was the - I’m going to college, bye - walk.

“Stop pacing and talk!” Dean finally barked at him. 

“Remember the first time we had sex in the Impala?” Sam said finally.

“Yeah, I think I might be able to recall that,” he could not help teasing. 

“Okay. When you came with me, it was better than good, right? It felt like, like, nirvana-_good_? Like mind-blowing good?” 

Dean had thought maybe he was the only one that felt that between them. The bright light, the crazy feeling of hitting some higher place. He thought maybe Sam was just that good at sex. He wasn’t sure until now that Sam had felt the same way.

He nodded. 

“When we made love that first time. That crazy whiteout, was…was…” 

“You pledging your soul to me?” Dean asked putting the pieces together all at once. Trying to keep the disbelief out of his voice but not exactly succeeding, “Are you saying that I already own your soul?” 

“Yeah, that made it official.” 

“I own your soul!” Dean smiled, nervous. He didn’t feel worthy of something like that and it spooked him. “So what can I make you do? Like, do all my dirty laundry Sam or I am tickling your soul?”

“It comes with some perks, but that is not one of them.” 

“This is just…I don’t know what to say. Wait though, there was no stabbing involved in the Impala, I would have remembered that.” 

“Don’t be mad,” Sam said. That phrase always meant Dean was about to be very, _very_ mad. 

“Sam… did you stab yourself already?” 

“I had to.” 

“Dude! You stabbed _me_?” 

“I knew it would work. Because that is how strong my faith is in my love for you. I knew it would work on my end, I didn’t doubt it. So I might have slipped you something after that time we came in Bobby’s house.”

Dean looked at him pissed. “You mickied me? And then _stabbed_ me?” he repeated. 

“Dean, you were already showing signs. There was a trail of sand following you everywhere. Which meant it was trying to manifest and take you with it. That night at Bobby’s house, it was in the room. Don’t you remember? It came for you. And not in the weakened state that it’s in now, all shadows and trying to pull us into nightmares. It came to us. I mean, it manifested right there in the room! Hideous face and all. So yes, I did what I had to in order to save you. I’d do it again.” 

Dean sat up, looking at himself for evidence, but there was no scar, no mark on his chest above his heart. 

“Besides, according to the lore, if my love wasn’t true, I’d be plunging the knife into my own heart first. I figured for you, that was a better way to go out than…” 

“Life as a monster condom, yeah I got it. But, you could have died, Sam!” Dean was furious now. He moved to the edge of the bed, punched a fist against the mattress. “I can’t believe you did this without talking to me.”

“Would you have let me?” 

“No! I wouldn’t risk you for–” 

“Exactly!” Sam yelled back. “You wouldn’t have let me save you and I _needed_ to save you this time, Dean.” 

“Save me, huh?” Dean could feel the anger bubbling up. He wanted to control it but his temper always seemed to win. “Are you only…are you only fucking me so I don’t get killed?”

“No!” Sam yelled. “How can you even say that?”

“I don’t know what to believe right now.” Dean moved to get up from the bed. This was too much. Sam fell down to his knees, his big body between Dean’s legs blocking him. He put his injured hand up on Dean’s chest.

“I’d rather die trying, than live without you,” Sam said with unmistakable devotion. “So yes, dad could have been lying, the monster could have been screwing with me, but I weighed my options. This was the only way I had to save you. So I took it. Because I do love you.”

“Sam…” 

“And it worked. In the Impala, that was the act of love that finally sealed it. My blood became your saving grace even though you haven’t done the ritual yet. When you drink it, when anything of me is inside you for a while like that, the sandman can’t take your soul, because my soul is claimed and a piece of me is in you. The rest of the spell just buys us time.” 

Dean only glared. 

“You’re angry.”

“Of course I am angry, Sam! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” His hurt ran double strong, now that Sam was both brother and lover.

“I tried! A bunch of times. I thought about telling you when we were at the lake. But it was so peaceful. I figured we had a little time. We both needed that happiness for once. Just for once. You weren’t acting like you heard his voice and I wasn’t finding any sand. It wasn’t like I was hiding it, Dean, I – I was just not talking about it. I meant to tell you right when we got here to the motel, but…” 

“But you saw me talking to the check-in girl and you thought I was flirting. You doubted me.” 

“Like dad said, this was my destiny. I know that now. But you, you still get to choose. I thought if you didn’t love me like I loved you, that was okay. But I couldn’t let you risk yourself then. Look, I – I just figured, try to hold onto the safety bar and ride it out, you know? I would buy us some time, at least on my side, and keep looking for other answers. We can still do that.”

Sam didn’t move. He stayed with his big hand over Dean’s chest, feeling his heartbeat, holding him there, as if in fear that Dean might break from his grasp and fly away from him forever. Dean finally put his hand over Sam’s and held it. 

“I’m just trying to get my head around all of this. I mean, if we are soulmates, shouldn’t we be, you know, in sync? With you not lying your ass off to me all the time?” 

“Soulmates or not, we are still human, Dean. We make mistakes. I make them all the time, I know. All I can say is I’m sorry. I am sorry if you feel like I lied to you. You are here with me and that is all I want. All that matters in the end. Please, please…” Sam didn’t even finish, only pulled Dean’s hand up and pressed it to his mouth, kissing it. 

There was Sam, kneeling on the floor in front of him, literally on his knees asking for forgiveness… forgiveness for basically loving Dean to the point of willingly sacrificing himself to save him. For probably going on the hundredth time in their lives.

Dean felt like an ass again. Funny how Sam seemed to have that effect on him. 

“Sam. There is nothing I would put in front of you, don’t you understand that? I’d let the whole world burn if it meant you were safe. I love you more than anything in existence. I love you so much it terrifies me most of the time.” 

“And we’re not soulmates, huh?” Sam’s smile pressed against Dean’s hand, as he continued kissing it.

Dean didn’t smile. “I’m sorry. Something isn’t right here.” He pulled his hand away from Sam’s grip.

“Like what?” 

“I can’t be your soul mate!” Dean blurted out.

Sam’s expression fell, like Dean did in fact just put a knife in his chest. His eyes finally left Dean’s face to look down and away. “Alright.” He said it so quiet it was barely a word at all.

Dean put a hand up to his chest, felt a sudden ache there. Man, was this that soul connection? “I can’t own your soul, Sammy.” Jesus, that really fucking hurt. He rubbed absently at his chest, trying to ease some of the ache building inside.

Sam only nodded. “I get it. I’ll think of another way. There has to be something. I’ll…” He trailed off and moved to walk away from Dean. 

Dean stood and stopped him. But how could he explain. He was shit with words. 

“It’s okay, Dean. We will figure something out,” Sam’s smile was thin but he meant it. He would simply accept it, just like that. 

Dean didn’t know how Sam always managed to wrap him up in knots like this. 

“I’m not good enough for this. Okay? I’m not good enough for something this-this big. I’m just not. I’m gonna screw it up.”

“That is why you…? Dean, I wish for only one second you could see yourself the way I see you. How can you not know how good you are? You are the most courageous and brave person, like no man can say he has been. You are loyal to anyone that has been the least bit kind to you, you pay it back ten times over. I could make a list for a year of the good things about you. You only think you are dirty and wrong because of this dirty world we live in, but you aren’t. You are beautiful and innocent.” 

Dean only shook his head at the things Sam was saying, hearing them but not letting them sink in. “Innocent? I don’t know what show you’ve been watching.” 

“Yeah, I mean innocent. You wade through waist deep terrors that would break most people, and still you get excited when December rolls around every damn year like it is magic. People are saying save me, help me, and you have never once asked what is in it for me, demanded anything for yourself, not once. I see you Dean. I see you clearly. You’re the one that has got it all backwards, you always do. I’m trying my best here to deserve you, because I’m the one that barely deserves to be with you, not the other way around.” 

“That’s not true at all, Sam.” 

“I know you just can’t see what I see. So you are going to have to trust me again, Dean. I will believe in you, even when you don't. This spell will work because I will have enough faith for the both of us. And then I’m going to spend the rest of my days helping you see who you really are.”

He took Dean into his arms and kissed him in long loving presses of lips, in those deep I love yous without words.

Dean didn’t know how to explain it, but for one moment, he did feel worthy. He did feel like he was seeing through Sam’s eyes. Then Sam pulled back from the kiss and the feelings went with it. 

“Besides, you can protest all you want but you already own my soul. I gave it to you and whether you meant to or not, you accepted. So it is basically just if you want me owning yours now.” 

He pressed his head into Sam’s shoulder, overwhelmed. 

“Is there anything else you aren’t telling me? Now is the time to spill. I want every last thing.” 

“No, that is everything.” 

“I mean it Sam, no more lies. Not another single thing hidden from me.” 

“When I was a teenager I sometimes put your toothbrush on my dick, not as a prank but because I liked watching it go in your mouth later. I jacked off afterwards. A lot.”

Dean blinked, that had not been what he was expecting. He let out a genuine laugh and said with all affection, “You are such a freak.” 

Sam, still looking very serious said, “Sometimes, when Castiel stands too close to you, I mentally stab him with an angel blade.” 

Dean was busting out laughing now. “What?”

Sam smirked. “That blue eyed bastard has the hots for you, he gets what is coming to him.” 

Dean couldn’t take any more, he was laughing so hard, he had to put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. The thought of the angel’s scandalized face at what Sam was suggesting was too much.

He flopped back down on the bed and said in his best Cas mocking voice, “That is not appropriate.”

Sam started cracking up too. He dropped down on the bed next to Dean, both of them out-and-out laughing now. The feel of Sam laughing only spurred Dean on, and it went in a contagious loop.

This is all Dean wanted, him and Sam, happy. Why was that so damn hard to maintain?

After the laughter died down, they laid there quietly for a while. Sam waiting, giving Dean time to think it all through. He drew random shapes on Dean’s arm with his finger.

“Hey, how about Cas?” Dean asked.

“What? Thinking about three-ways already?”

“Well, yeah,” Dean laughed, “No man, Come on, I meant couldn’t Castiel angel-mojo this bastard for us? Smite his ass.” 

“I already looked into it. Castiel maybe could slow him down. But there isn’t much he could do to stop him without knowing what makes him tick. We are talking about a god almost as powerful as, well, God.” 

They talked over every other possibility then. Anything Dean could come up with to avoid this, Sam had already tried out. They laid in bed talking about everything that Sam had found out, the translation of words, what Dean had to say once he pulled the knife out, all the details.

When there was nothing left to know, nothing left to say, Dean finally nodded. He smoothed back Sam’s hair from his face, “You know, I forgive you. But I want the truth from here on out, you got it?”

“I will always do what I have to for you to be safe. But I will keep no more secrets in my heart from you.” 

The mention of hearts made Dean nervous again.

“This is kinda intense, Sam.”

His brother nodded in agreement.

But if there was no choice then there was no use in delaying. He rolled towards Sam, and kissed him.

Sam made a startled noise, then one of pleasure.

The feel of Sam’s warm mouth put the upcoming flirting with death out of mind for the time being.

He pulled Dean’s body against him, pressed him in like he couldn’t get the feel of him close enough. Dean loved when Sam got all handsy like that. He enjoyed letting the want inside ebb and flow in him as Sam touched him, feeling all the lines and curves of him. His Sammy.

“Sam, god, you are pretty. You are going to be even prettier when you are taking it in your perfect ass for me.” Dean practically purred.

Sam chuckled in his ear. He rolled over him, so that he was behind Dean, kissing the back of his neck. “Going to be the other way around this time. And you sure are going to look pretty, taking every inch.”

During their days at the lake, the two of them had done a lot of things together. Many fantasy fulfillments on both sides. Dean had made love to Sam over and over again, had pounded Sam’s perfect ass until he came more times than he could count. But there was one last line they hadn’t crossed yet. Dean hadn’t…exactly…bottomed yet. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to. It was just…

Sam kissed down between his shoulder blades, then the center of his back as he moved down the bed. When he kissed even lower, Dean tensed.

Dean was holding his breath. Sam stopped, looked up, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” A blush went across Dean’s face and he was happy he wasn’t facing Sam right now. 

“Dean?” Sam cocked his head to the side. “You…have done this before, right?”

The slow fierce blush burned its way up, until even the tips of his ears turned pink. “Well, it ain’t like I’m a virgin.” 

Sam went silent. 

“Sam, don’t make this a big deal. It is fine, keep going.” 

He put a hand on Dean’s shoulder and turned him a little so they were face to face. His younger brother was smiling like an idiot now, the corners of his mouth twitching up.

“Oh god, you are going to make this a big deal,” Dean groaned. “So I’ve never bottomed. I just never swung that way! I told you that. I’m like, like…” Dean was embarrassed by the facts.

“Sam-sexual?” Sam grinned. 

“That is awful.” But so true. 

He motioned for Sam to get on with it and turned back away, hugging his arms around the pillow. “Less chatting. More screwing.” 

“No, I am not going to let you do that, just brush it off. It is a big deal, _you_ are a big deal to me. Do you have any idea? I mean what you just did to me telling me I’m going to be the first to – to– ” Sam trailed off with a groan. “I’m going to be the first – and only – to be inside you that way.” 

Dean rolled his eyes. Leave it to Sam to get all weirdly sentimental about it. That was his outer shell talking of course. Inwardly, the deep down creamy center of Dean Winchester loved Sam for just that. 

He pulled him in, the news obviously having a _big_ effect on Sam, one that Dean could feel pressing against his hip now. But Sam was in no rush, he tilted Dean’s face to him and they kissed like it too was the first time.

It felt so good, but Dean quickly untangled himself from his brother’s long limbs and hopped out of bed.

“Where are you going?” Sam hands trailed after him.

“Someone owes me a fantastic soul saving fuck. I thought I’d give you a few minutes to prepare. Put on your sexiest lingerie and wait for me to come back,” Dean joked.

Dean went into the bathroom and closed the door softly behind him.

Knives, blood, monsters, nightmares, bottoming for Sam and his too-big monster cock. He blew out a deep breath. He had barely had time to process any of it.

He jumped in the shower again, and took a few minutes to himself, trying to calm his own nerves. He bent his head down, felt the cool water running down his back.

The only thing that mattered at the end of the day was Sam being safe.


	2. Tuck You In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hush-a-bye  
Don't you cry  
Go to sleepy little baby  
When you awake  
We shall have cake  
And all the pretty little horsies  
\- [Grant Campbell](https://youtu.be/Aab61dAk-hY)

Boy, did Sam take that lingerie request to heart.

When Dean came out of the shower a short time later he sputtered and halted in the doorway at the sight of Sam.

Sam was sprawled out in the middle of the heart shaped motel bed, somehow managing to make the cheesy love room now look sexy as hell. He was wearing a pair of silky black boxers and a tight black V-neck shirt that hugged every muscle he had _so. very. right_. 

The boxers clung to his hips and floated over the remarkable muscles of his thighs. Dean’s eyes traveled up the narrow expanse of his hips, up his hard masculine body the shirt could do nothing to cover, up to his eyes that were heavy lidded with lust. He had pulled all the ritual candles out of the Impala, and all the candles the suite had provided and had encircled the bed so that it glowed in the firelight.

“Come here already,” Sam said. The look he had now was so fired up with need that Dean felt like the towel around his hips should be catching fire. A guaranteed orgasm so good Dean would never recover was waiting for him, but Dean found himself unable to move.

Sam strode off the bed towards him. A long-legged, broad-chested dream. It was raw magnetism that Dean thought was not at all fair, but then remembering Sam was his - all his - god, life could be good! Who knew? 

Sam took him in his arms. His mouth going right to that hot spot behind Dean’s ear that made him gasp, like someone had given Sam a ‘how to turn Dean into a puddle’ instruction manual. 

“I love you,” Sam whispered, his deep voice right in Dean’s ear. It was not a request for it to be said back, and it came with no strings attached. It was simply a feeling too big for him to contain.

Romance, the real stuff, left Dean feeling off kilter. But Sam wouldn’t let him fall.

He moved to Dean’s other side, kissed along his neck and whispered it in that ear too, “I love you.”

He was completely affectionate and unguarded, in a way Dean thinks he could only ever aspire to be. Mushy_._ That was Sam. 

Sam moved, and did a slow, slow pull of his own shirt over his head, a reveal of everything underneath. It didn’t matter how often they did this, Dean knew it would never ever get old. The pads of his fingers followed the t-shirt up Sam’s body. Along his stomach, up his toned arms. And then there was Sam’s beautiful face, smiling at him. All that warm skin, all that body, and Dean’s wildest dreams all rolled up into someone that he loved more than life. Dean was so in love. Always would be. Okay, he was mushy too. 

Sam kissed him and said what Dean for a moment mistook as the absolute worst dirty talk ever, “One fast swing. It will hurt. But it will only last a minute.” 

“Dude, ugh,” Dean cringed realizing he was talking about the spell.

“You remember the words you have to say right? How to say them?” Sam kept a hand on his chest, waited until Dean nodded. 

He wasn’t sure he could do this. “I can’t let you die, Sam.”

He gave Dean a genuine smile. “That is exactly the attitude we need.” 

Dean felt the _thump thump_ of his heart in his chest and wasn’t sure if it was fear or the way Sam suddenly had his hands on the back of his legs, picking him up and carrying him to the bed, Dean losing his towel along the way...

Sam laid him out on his back on the bed on top of… where did Sam find friggin rose petals? The sap. That was just too much! Dean was about to protest, but Sam cut him off, wasting no time to pull Dean over, until he had him arranged how he wanted him. Naked, with all fours on the bed, with Sam directly behind him. The blush returned to Dean’s face.

Dean could feel the heat wafting off Sam as he stayed naked and spread out beneath him. Sam just sat there drinking every inch of him in with his eyes. The curve of his back, the backs of his muscular thighs, and where they met in the middle at his fine ass.

Sam was so confident this would work. He was still horny and hot. Dean however, wasn’t sure he could keep it up to finish this love ritual anyway. 

Sam withdrew the knife. He set it down on the pillow in front of them.

Dean couldn’t handle this kind of suspense.

“Sam, I swear to god if you don’t hurry up I’m going t–”

** _SMACK!_ **

Dean gasped at the feel of Sam’s strong hand as it smacked across his bare exposed ass. He turned and looked over his shoulder at Sam.

He had the most lustful intense gaze the world had ever seen. His face was flushed, and his cock was leaving a beautiful wet spot where it already strained against the fabric of his black boxers. 

“You aren’t going to rush me, Dean. And you aren’t going to give me another command. Because tonight you are mine to do whatever I want with. Your soul and your body – are mine.”

Dean opened his mouth and Sam smacked his hand against the other side of Dean’s ass hard, making whatever Dean was about to say come out as a gasp instead. A jolt of pleasure ran straight up through him, settling heavy between his legs.

Maybe mushy, but hot and rough, that was Sam too. 

He would never have been able to admit that he enjoyed relinquishing control to Sam. But Sam knew Dean, knew he was nervous and if he had it his way would have probably cracked jokes through the whole thing. He took charge.

Sam ran his fingers down over the hard muscle and soft redding flesh of his ass.

“Spread yourself open for me.” When Dean didn’t move fast enough, Sam let his hand come down against his cheek again, and once more for good measure.

The pain was sweet.

He leaned his chest against the mattress, one hand going back. He timidly spread his legs open for Sam. He shivered a little as Sam looked all of him over.

“Wider,” Sam said hotter than a Texas heat wave.

Dean obeyed. He spread his legs wider.

“You are so perfect.” His hands were gliding down over Dean’s ass, and it made his dick throb as Sam rubbed against the welts there, then further in.

He was on his knees, facing away, and that is exactly how Dean had wanted it. It would be too intense if he had to look in Sam’s eyes right now. Far too intense and it is like Sam knew it - he knew what Dean needed. He let him have this space. Safe in Sam’s control, just enough pain to keep it real, just enough distance to keep him sane.

“Going to make you open up, nice and slow for me.” An obscene touch, he pushed his thumb against the center of him. Sam wasn’t shy, fuck, Sam was not shy at all.

Dean’s cock was already so hard it nearly hurt and Sam hadn’t even started yet. 

Sam took his time. Dean did not rush him.

But he started to miss that handsome face. 

Dean moved his gaze from the bed and glanced up. There against the headboard, where Sam had the two of them perfectly angled, was a mirror. There was also a big heart shaped mirror on the dresser behind them. He could see…everything. Sam’s tall body overshadowing him. Himself submitting on his knees, his hands wound in the sheets, looking so debauched before Sam had even gotten more than a finger in him. And Sam behind him, hot, throbbing, and erect.

Sam grinned when he saw Dean finally looking. Sammy fucked him open then, first with his fingers and then with his hot mouth.

God have mercy on his soul. 

“Too much, too much,” Dean said, as he could feel Sam’s tongue inside him. He didn’t realize the words were actually coming out, or that his eyes were now closed…until Sam whispered, “Not enough, more, more,” against his skin in return.

Sam moved, putting his other hand under Dean’s jaw. He tilted his head back up, made him look at them in the mirror. Watched as Sam continued to take him just how he wanted him. Sam pushed two fingers in once more, giving Dean a delicious ache.

“Please,” Dean said, but it only made Sam tighten his grip on the line of Dean’s jaw.

“More. Touch yourself with your hand. I want to watch you do it.”

Dean let go of the sheet he was gripping with his right hand, ran it down his body as Sam commanded. They both saw flashes of his cock in the mirror, his glossy head pushing through his fingers. His fist soon became a halting, erratic blur as he pushed up into his own grip and back down onto Sam’s fingers.

“Oh, god.” Dean didn’t fight the low shuddering groan it pulled from him when Sam pushed another finger inside. His hips jerked up into his own fist.

Sam used one hand and finally pulled his own boxers down and off his legs.

“Yeah.” Sam was confident now that Dean wouldn’t look away.

Dean’s eyes were everywhere on the mirror, watching what Sam was doing to him, what he was doing to himself, both their bodies and back to that hazel gaze.

Sam’s hand eventually replaced Dean’s own on his dick, pumping in rhythm to his slick fingers. He kept going until they were sliding in and out easy and until he had Dean fucked out enough to relax. Then he went back to licking him open, just for the pure enjoyment of it.

It was the hottest, most erotic thing that Dean had ever felt in his life. He knew it would somehow be even better when it was Sam’s cock pushing in him instead. His balls tighten and he moaned in excitement at the thought of Sam inside him.

“Don’t come yet,” Sam said feeling Dean nearing the point of no return. Dean dropped his hand back down.

His body tensed and his arms began to shake, the damp spot of precum growing by the second on the mattress underneath him.

Sam shifted and moved forward, the tip of his wet cock barely grazing along his skin. He pressed in, ran it down along the line of Dean’s ass, and let him feel the weight of it against him. Hot and smooth on his skin.

Dean could hardly stand the pleasure, his own cock throbbing with his heartbeat. “I think you might be trying to kill me, not save me!”

Sam smiled, enjoying the slow slick slide of his hard flesh all over Dean’s virgin hole. His hands held his hips steady as the immense sexual energy flowed through them both. “Don’t come yet,” He repeated.

Wasn’t he just asking the damn impossible? Sam was driving them right to the edge.

Sam kept going, like he was high on watching Dean. He couldn’t get enough of this vision of Dean being all his, splayed out in front of him, knowing he could take him any time he wanted.

Sam needed to see it, needed to hear it, to feel how badly Dean wanted this, and wanted him. He pushed against Dean’s hole, a little, not in, just there, right there, just the head. Until Dean was moaning - one long beautiful sound - trying to push back in against him.

Dean’s toes curled. His body was taut like a bow with an arrow held back too long and if Sam didn’t let him come soon he would snap. Maybe that is exactly what Sam wanted? Him to break wide open and beg him while he came all over the sheets. But one moaned “Please, S-Sammy, need you,” was all it took.

Dean found himself on his back in the bed, a flurry of red petals in the air. Sam above him, in between his spread legs. He was going to fuck Dean hard and make him cum on his cock as it split him open.

But Sam didn’t move. Just looked down at Dean, his breath coming fast. Waiting… 

Dean knew what he wanted. He would go no further until Dean got the spell over with. 

“Same time?” Dean asked. Sam’s kiss was his reply.  
  
He didn’t look over, just moved his hand on the pillow next to his head and found the handle of the blade. It was cool to the touch, didn’t seem to warm at all, even in his nervous palm. 

Dean held the blade at an angle between them, the point to his chest. He’d have to do this accurately enough while fighting against his own reflexes.

Sam leaned and pushed into Dean. 

That slow spread, the pressure, the pleasure.

Dean gazed down through the small space between them, down to where Sam’s body was connecting with his own. That was a part of Sam, deep inside him. He wrapped one arm around Sam’s back, holding on to him.

“You okay?” Sam whispered, moving slower. Dean could _feel _everything he said as much as he could hear it. He nodded and closed his eyes. Sam kissed Dean’s face tenderly. Pushed a little more, rocked in and out with slow shuddery movements.

“I love you.”

“Love you too.” Dean knew it had to be now, or he’d lose his nerve for good.

He pushed the knife in hard.

Dean felt every inch of steel enter his heart. At first, it was only a thick cold awful pressure, but then the pain came. He suddenly felt himself somewhere between life and death.

“Say the words Dean!” 

“Finis vitae sed non amoris. Totus tuus amor. Vi et animo. In somnis veritas.” Dean managed to choke them all out. There was a dark pulse. Dean wasn’t sure if it was the spell, or him losing consciousness.

“Dean…” Sam said, his hands on both sides of Dean’s face, when he didn’t continue. 

He never cared about his own death, but Sam’s… that made everything in Dean scream. So putting this knife in that beloved heart of his Sammy? There was just no way.

He looked from the hilt protruding from his bare chest, into the eyes of the man he loved. He left the blade where it was. Dean reached his hand up to touch Sam’s face instead.

This was best he could do. The monster would leave, find someone new. No more nightmares, no more threats. Sam would live on to fight another day. Sam would be safe. That was an okay end in his book.

“Can’t risk you, to save me. Can’t…Can’t…” Everything went fuzzy, faded, including Sam. “I love you too damn much.” He closed his eyes, could feel his hand fall away. Making love to Sammy is how he wanted to go out, but damn…

His heart thudded around the steel its last time and stopped. 

There was darkness.

To Be Continued... right now! →


	3. Warm Within

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   

> 
>   
Now I believe that lovers should be draped in flowers  
And laid entwined together on a bed of clover  
And left there to sleep  
Left there to dream…  
Of their happiness.  
-[Bright Eyes](https://youtu.be/QXYM6-X8c3o)

And then there was Sam’s smile. It felt like Sam had his hand around Dean’s heart and he was pulling. He dragged the knife from Dean’s chest. 

Dean gasped.

Looking down fast he expected to see a gush of blood, but there was none. No hole, no scar, his chest was perfectly intact. His skin glowed with a strange warm luminescence that slowly spread from his heart with each beat, throughout his body. He looked up at Sammy.

“If you could kill me to save yourself,” Sam said, “it wouldn’t have been true love. By sacrificing yourself you proved you really loved me.” 

“Sam,” the name came out in a mix of confusion, anger, relief, and love. “I could have – ”

“No,” Sam said, shaking his head, “I knew what choice you’d make. I know you. The same choice I made. I was never in a moment’s danger.”

Sam’s chest too glowed. He flung the knife onto the floor, where it laid amongst the fallen red petals.

“How about, simply, it worked. So, shut up and kiss me.”

Sam moved his body so that every inch of contact he could get between them was theirs. He shielded Dean, enveloping him in long arms and broad shoulders and more love than the world should be able to contain. Dean decided then that he could live the rest of his life happily being cared for this way, and for once, he allowed himself to hope that he would.

He dropped all macho fronts. This beautiful soul he now owned, loving him like this. It was almost too much. Almost.

He shut up and kissed Sam.

Sam pushed back inside him with a slow thrust in, careful. His hungry grunts into Dean’s ear spoke of the willpower it was taking to hold back.

Dean moved below him, pushing up to meet Sam, trying to get him deeper, needing that ache. Because it wasn’t gentleness he wanted, not now, not after everything.

“I’m not gonna break.”

But Sam still moved slowly, unsure.

“Come on, Sammy. I want to feel _us_.”

Sam knew what he meant. He moaned his brother’s name so beautifully then, his hand braced against the bed as he drove himself deeper inside. Dean’s whole body moved in one “oh hell _yes_” motion below him.

He pulled almost all the way out, Dean’s rim stretched on the head of his thick cock before he was rocking back in.

Dean sucked in a deep breath, a quiet “ah” as Sam pushed back even deeper still. Sam’s lips were on his mouth, to claim any further cries.

Dean felt an impossible fullness inside him by the time Sam’s thighs pushed against his naked skin. He was only letting out unintelligible words now, mixed with Sam’s name, in-between the push and slide out. And Sam’s kiss. 

Harder, faster – Dean took and met each thrust, until he could keep up no longer. His hands and legs clinging to the force that was Sam unleashed.

Sam’s hand went down between their bodies, he wrapped his fingers around Dean’s hot heavy length, and he stroked him just as hard and fast as he fucked him.

“Say you are mine Dean. Say it.”   
  
“I’m yours, I’m fucking yours.” 

Dean’s words only spurred Sam on, until they were both crying out. He wanted to feel Dean lose it hard all over his fingers on the outside while he marked him as his forever on the inside.

“Only yours! Fuck! Always, Sammy! Sam! Sam, I’m gonna-”

“Dean!”

When they came it was together, violently and beautifully, like where lightning meets earth. Blinding light, the coming of two souls into one for only the briefest of moments, half to half, until the whole is completely restored. Love pulsing through their blood.

Dean slipped everything from this mortal world off like a jacket, shed all that wasn’t them, and was at once one with Sam, time, and eternity, in the height of orgasmic rush. Found in a world, created by a god who had fallen in love with the idea of love itself. Everything was still, as if life itself had to pause in surrender to the act of love. Pure ecstasy. The spell completed.

“Awesome,” he gasped, finally using the word in proper context and restarting the world. 

Sam was above him, still saying his name. He could feel the warmth of his release. The shakes and aftershocks of Sam still coming, still throbbing inside him.

Sam kissed his face, so gone in joy and so totally in love with Dean, he was making happy little bliss noises. This is the moment Dean would choose to relive forever if he ever made it back to heaven.

Eventually the perfect joining faded, as all good things do, to a content satisfaction. Dean took in a deep breath, as deep as he could get under the weight of his Moosely-sized soul mate.

“Sam...”

“Mmm,” Sam breathed a deep contented sigh, but didn’t move. He kept his face pressed into Dean’s neck.

“Dude.”   
  
“Hmm? ”  
  
“We should have been filming this, would have been the best porno ever made.”

Sam laughed again, his stomach pressing and bouncing into Dean’s own with each joyous sound. He rolled off him and next to him, never breaking contact, a hand still flung out across Dean’s chest. His hair was a wild tumble, his face was still sex flushed. Dean smiled, way too freakin’ happy.

The lovers lay entwined together, in little fits of sleep and murmured words, for some time. After awhile, Dean dug up a handful of the red petals still lining the sheets and tossed them at Sam. His brother smiled with his eyes still closed.

“So how do we know if –”

Sam suddenly went sliding off the bed, dragged by his feet and tossed into the wall. He hit so hard he left a hole, plaster raining down on him.

“Sam!”

Their peaceful world was broken.

A shadow figure, of shifting sands stood between them. Not grotesque and deformed like before in the cave. Now it was only the outline of a man, sand slowly falling off him and scattering to the carpet, like through an hourglass. It let out a loud bellowing yell at Sam, before snapping its head back to Dean.

The whirling sand made a whisper and hiss sound as the creature moved. It spoke his name, but it came out rough and awful, sounding like a swear.

Sam sat up, holding his shoulder, he leaned his back against the wall. He laughed triumphantly. “You are too late, you bastard! His soul is mine, we are bound - and you can go to hell!”

It was fading, sand dropping off it at an ever-increasing rate.

“This is the last time you are seeing this world!”

The thing turned to Sam, even without a face, Dean could see its rage. He also saw his opportunity.

Snatching the ritual knife off the floor next to the bed where Sam had dropped it, he grabbed the creature around the neck, and plunged it fast into its side. It may have looked like sand, but it reacted like hard flesh. The knife went in deep and Dean had to tug to pull it out. He swung it fast, again, and again.

“Nothing hurts my brother!” he said as he swung in and pulled the knife up through the monsters back a final time. If this thing had been a man, it would have been a killing blow. But Dean doubted it would kill a god. Still the thing fell forward on its knees, a great wave of sand pouring from it.

Dean ran to Sam.

“Watch out!” Sam yelled. The Sandman had staggered to his feet once more, moving towards them.

Dean pulled Sam up, tugged him in close. They stood as a united front. It was good to have someone to die for, better to have someone to die with. He held the knife out in front of them. 

The Sandman was at a full galloping run at Dean. But as it grabbed hold of his arm it burst into a wave of sand and dust, pelting Dean and covering the room. Gone. 

Dean stood in shock.

“That… can’t be it.” He said. But there it was. A lightness to the room. Like a weight had been lifted, a darkness vanished, a monster banished.

“It’s over,” Sam confirmed. “Told you it would work.” He was glad he never had to face that kind of monster in its full force and power, just this was enough.

Dean tossed his arms into the air and whooped and hollered. 

“Hell yeah! Can we battle evil like that every day?” 

The sandman was safely locked away in the dream world for now. Though they still needed to find a way to kill the son-of-a-bitch at some point, Dean had no doubts that now that it was completely him and Sam against the world…they would win.

***

Dean was kissing Sam’s shoulder and his elbow, which had taken most of the impact from the wall. No real damage, but soft loving kisses still needed to be generously applied.

His cell phone rang. Sam leaned over and picked it up.

“Leeeeave it,” Dean whined. But Sam had already pushed answer, he shrugged his apology and smiled.

“Hey Bobby. Yes, the Sandman. We already know – yeah, yeah. No, it is done already. We are safe.”

Dean started biting on Sam’s neck, tugging at his ear with his teeth.

Sam eventually shooed him away with a smile. Sam talked to Bobby, leaving enough out, but filling him in on the important things that had happened with the Sandman.

Dean looked around, and saw the all together forgotten bags of takeout that had been delivered from Weiner Hut. It felt like it had happened years ago. He opened them and took out the cartons of food.

“I do love you Sammy, but this,” he said, holding up his burger. “_This_ is true love. This right here.”

Sam did his best not to laugh into the phone. He liked Dean goofy and light, couldn’t get enough of it. He grabbed a few of Dean’s fries and stuck them in his mouth, and listened to Bobby talking on the other end of the phone. More like giving him a lecture for not filling him in sooner. “I know, I know, Bobby. But it is nice not having to pull our asses out of the fire for once, isn’t it?”

Dean finished his burger in four bites. Sam was still talking. He washed his hands and brushed his teeth. Sam was still talking. Walked the room. Sam was still talking!

His body was already aching to touch Sam again. It was crazy how bad that need was. Sammy, stretched out all naked on the bed. His Sam, his soulmate.

He held his hand up and mimicked Sam talking away on the phone.

“Yeah. Okay, I gotta go, talk to you soon.” Sam said.

“Finally!” Dean grabbed the cell phone out of Sam’s hand and tossed it.

“You know, I was thinking, we better be sure this spell took,” Dean grinned, rolling Sam over, one hand on the back of his head, pulling him in for a kiss. “Just to be sure.” 

“Well, just to be _sure_.”

They kissed, Dean being unapologetically loud with his moans, just ridiculously happy.

“I top this time.”

“Boys, please hang up the damn phone!” Bobby yelled.

Dean blushed ten shades of red, as Sam laughed, leaned over and hit the end call button.

The two made love, as true lovers do, over and over, until they fell asleep in each other’s arms. There would always be darkness in the world, but now there was one more light, a light of love shining brightly, to keep it at bay. 

**THE END.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ending is dedicated to Elisabeth, whom requested happy. I did the best I could with what bits of broken heart I had left.
> 
> Ah, Dearest, I wish we could stay dreaming.
> 
> Yours,  
<strike>Unicorn</strike>  
The Real Sandman  
  
_“When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? Perhaps to be too practical is madness. To surrender dreams — this may be madness. To seek treasure where there is only trash. Too much sanity may be madness — and maddest of all: to see life as it is, and not as it should be!” – Don Quixote_
> 
> ***
> 
> Thank you to every single one of you wonderful people reading this story to completion. Especially to all those that left me comments along the way. I savor each one like the best piece of pie.
> 
> This is the first thing I have written since I was a kid, the first fanfiction, and uh, *blush* the very first erotic story I’ve ever written (obviously). So it is a bit wonky in parts for sure. I considered going back to edit it, chop it, smooth it all out. But I have decided to leave it as is, as writing it and posting it chapter by chapter, never knowing where my muse was taking us all next was a grand adventure. One I can only hope you enjoyed too :) Thank you.


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